


pieces to a love story

by grandstander



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 18:45:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12488396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandstander/pseuds/grandstander
Summary: a collection of short prompts.





	pieces to a love story

**Author's Note:**

> hey im here with another series of kisses from mini AUs lol 
> 
> have fun, enjoy, etc.

i. early morning kiss. 

Darius has always slept deeper and longer than Garen has. Garen never bothers to wake him unless he has to; he seems so at peace when he sleeps. Garen is a punctual man, too, waking up at the tick of a clock, but he finds it harder to simply leave his bed some days. The deep lines of stress aren’t sitting on Darius’s face, his chest rises and falls slowly, he looks elegant and peaceful. Garen lets him sleep while Darius’s arm lays wrapped around his waist. 

He finally makes to rouse Darius after a few minutes of idly resting in his arms, murmuring the older man’s name gently. He doesn’t really expect it to work, but he tries for the sake of trying at the very least. 

“Darius,” he says only slightly louder, voice soft and deep as he leans closer. He is greeted with a low groan and the sight of Darius burying his face deeper into his pillow while his arms pull Garen closer. 

Garen can’t help but chuckle, finally brings his hand to Darius’s upper arm to stroke his skin slowly as he calls out to him once more. The next groan is louder, perhaps a rebuttal of some kind, and his brow creases as it sinks from disapproval of being woken up. He knows Darius at least hears him now, though. 

“Darius,” he says again, this time sweeter as his hand rises to the older man’s cheek and temple, slowly threading his fingers into his hair while his thumb moves in steady circles. “Darius, love,” Garen continues. 

“Garen,” Darius finally answers in a deep tone thick with morning drowsiness. His eyes barely open, still half-lidded (and only one visible, his face still partially pressed into his pillow). 

“It is morning, I need to—” Darius does not let Garen continue, disregarding his words entirely as he pulls Garen closer to him and lazily lays halfway over him. He moves ever closer still, pressing his nose against Garen’s cheek as he attempts to lay a chaste kiss over his cheek (it’s closer to the corner of his lips). It’s messy and clumsy, followed by another equally lazy kiss properly placed upon his lips.

Garen sighs during the exchange, his hand having moved to Darius’s upper arm once more as he’s slowly encompassed by the other man (it is no sign of displeasure, of course, more of an acknowledgement of defeat). “Darius... “ he tries one final time, but a smile has been on his lips all the while. 

“Sleep in for once,” Darius mumbles in response, “It’ll be good for you.” 

 

ii. hesitant kiss. 

Weights are tied to his ankles keeping him tied down to this very moment, this very place. Fear and excitement all brewing like a wild storm at his soles while his upper body feels like it might blow away with the wind, like ash. He stares into those bright blue eyes, those blue eyes he’s dreamed of and those eyes that hadn’t really seen him for so long. Garen sees him this time, and he wonders if he can tell how truly nervous Darius is. 

He can see how nervous Garen is at least, staring up at him and unsure of what to do with himself. His eyes flicker down to the pavement, his fingers curl into the scarf he wears during winter. 

Darius doesn’t want him to leave now, after so long. Not after spending the majority of their high school years at odds with each other. 

So he bites the bullet, he swallows his fears and he hopes, wonders, wants Garen to taste all of these feelings on his lips as he leans forward. Darius hovers just slightly, waiting to see if Garen pulls away from him like he has for so long. 

He doesn’t, but he sucks in a breath and his shoulders tense, but he doesn’t pull away. 

So Darius kisses him softly and quickly behind the bleachers. 

 

iii. can’t let go yet kiss. 

“You’re going to be late to your meeting,” Darius says, but his actions don’t really align with the concern he’s expressing. His hands haven’t left Garen, and his lips keep chasing him to press quick, light kisses against his cheeks and temple. 

Each series of kisses only seem to mold Garen to his hands, tilting his chin upwards and closing his eyes as Darius kisses his temple, peppering more tokens of affection against his skin. Small laughs and chuckles keep fluttering past his lips, their dance of goodbyes and kisses only moving steadily through the home. Perhaps Garen would have an easier time leaving if he didn’t try to return each kiss he was given. 

“I am never late,” Garen answers, smile still on his lips as he grabs his keys and folds his suit jacket over his forearm. Darius takes the moment to kiss the back of Garen’s neck, arms wrapping around his waist. 

“Perhaps there’s a first time for everything,” the older man says playfully, letting his husband leave his arms only to follow him to the door. Again Darius pulls him back for another kiss to his lips, which is returned when he receives a kiss to the corner of his own lips and another on his chin.

“Maybe so,” the younger man says with a smile and a look of amusement, “But today will not be the day I break my punctuality.” Darius only hums and chuckles in return.

 

iv. distracting kiss. 

When Garen works, his expression usually forms deep lines of concentration, his brow sinking while his fingers steadily move into his hair. The man devotes himself to whatever he happens to be working on, as if it were the most essential thing at the moment (which, to him, it was; Garen took all of his responsibilities equally seriously). 

Darius admired his tenacity to work so intently, but the same devotion could keep Garen working much later than he needed to be or taking too heavy of a workload. The lines on his forehead are a telltale sign that Garen’s been at this particular case file for several hours already. As a rule, Darius leaves him to his work for at least an hour more before he pulls Garen from it (if he didn’t eventually, Garen may very well forget to check a clock at all). 

He’s not sure if Garen realized he opened the door to his study or not. Garen’s back is to him so he has no way of knowing anyway. His hand has moved to the back of his neck as he writes, Darius gently resting his own hand between Garen’s shoulder blades to signify his presence. 

“Garen,” he says simply, letting his hand roam slowly up his back to his shoulder. His only answer is a low hum as Garen moves his from his neck to hold the paper he was writing on. 

“How long have you been home?” Garen finally asks, his posture beginning to relax under the other man’s touch. 

“A while,” Darius answers, followed by another hum of acknowledgement from Garen. “I thought I’d let you work again, and here you’ve kept yourself busy all night.” There’s a slight lilt of amusement to his voice, endeared by the fact that Garen could be so predictable at times. 

Garen still hadn’t put down his pen yet, nor had he looked up from his paperwork. 

“Garen,” Darius says his name again, voice smoother than before. He leans down, placing a kiss to the top of his head, lingering there briefly to try and break Garen from the trance he had set himself in. Still, he is only given a hum as an answer. Darius didn’t expect one kiss to pull him away anyway.

Darius moves further down still, kissing Garen’s temple and letting chaste, light kisses trail after the initial token of affection with fleeting touches. “It’s late,” he says in between the brief kisses. 

A rumble sounds in Garen’s throat, but this time it is drawn out and softer, his eyes closing as he tips his chin back. Darius takes the invitation and curls his fingers underneath it, kissing his cheek before moving to the curve of his jaw. Darius knows that whatever he says next, Garen will follow, he knows that Garen is clay in his hands.

“Come to bed,” he says, his voice deep and quiet “You can keep working tomorrow.” It melts all the tension that was coiled in Garen’s body, as if releasing the floodgates and turning into something soft and pliable in Darius’s hands. Garen sighs in response, though the sound is les one of exasperation and more so one of concede.

“If you insist,” Garen answers him with a chuckle, but his cheeks are warm with color and his eyes hazy with affection. 

 

v. quick, goodbye kiss. 

Garen was beaming ear to ear, full of pride and overjoyed to see that Darius has made it (he’d need to thank his lucky stars that he his old pickup truck didn’t break down on the way here). Nothing seemed to be able to dim his smile, either, and that’s probably what made it worth all the hassle to drive two hours upstate for his football game. 

Typically, Garen was slow to show affection, especially in public. The both of them were rather private, but as soon as Darius had climbed out of his truck Garen had nearly thrown him off balance in a tight hug. He seemed surprised by his own enthusiasm when he’d pulled back, laughing weakly and tugging at his scarf. 

“I’m so glad you could make it,” he said, smiling still “You didn’t forget your ticket, did you?” 

“No, I have it,” Darius answered, pulling it out of his coat pocket as proof. “I wouldn’t want to miss your first college game, anyway.” 

Color rises to Garen’s cheeks in response, but it doesn’t diminish his mood in any way. He’s much too happy for anything to really bring him down. Garen had prepared himself in case Darius’s truck had been unreliable, or he wouldn’t be able to leave his brother home alone for the weekend, or anything, really. He’d been prepared not to hold it against Darius, too, so when he was able to make the trip it made him all the more grateful. 

He’s been dragging out as much time as he could before he has to go get ready, but the minutes are starting to run from him even faster it seems. Following the trail of his excitement, he grabs Darius’s upper arm and raises up to press a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. 

Darius is too stunned to respond, his eyes blinking at him as his hands hover in the air. He isn't given much time to answer it, either as Garen pulls back to leave. 

“Hey, after the game, let’s get dinner,” Garen quickly adds before he has to leave.

“Are you sure?” Darius asks, a little dumbfounded by how quickly and freely Garen has been giving affection. “Wouldn’t you rather be with your team to celebrate afterwards?” 

“If you win, anyway,” he quickly adds, to which Garen cocks his head to the side and grins at him, all the confidence in the world sitting on his shoulders. 

“Of course we will. You’re here,” Garen answers, as if that’s what makes the difference, like it’s his secret weapon. Darius doesn’t know how to answer again feeling himself stall. 

“I’d rather spend time with you, though. I missed you,” he continues, and it’s evident how much he had missed Darius the last few months in his voice. It dawns on Darius that that might also be why Garen’s been so quick to be near to him, to hold him and kiss him. 

“Alright, good luck,” Darius finally answers, one corner of his lips rising in a lopsided grin. 

“Thanks, I’ll see you later.” Garen takes a step towards Darius, and Darius reads him this time, leaning down to meet him halfway in a chaste kiss. Garen has to take off running after, but he still looks over his shoulder to wave as he leaves.


End file.
